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@vszalkowski 's thread
When you were young your mom told you that you were your own garden and you grew flowers inside your bones.
You grew purple Lilacs and pink Chrysanthemum and yellow Daylilies and you had vines and blossoms and you were alive 
Your mom made you promise to protect the garden as it would protect you.
You were beautiful. You had dreams of running through meadows and sleeping on flower beds.
When you let him in you made him swear to protect your garden as it would protect him too.
For a time he promised that he loved it all, but he got comfortable and ripped out an oak tree so that he could walk in the garden.
You laughed it off, "it is just an oak tree."
When he ripped out rose bushes, you cried.
He told you his favorite color was blue so he ripped out everything till all that was left were blue Hyacinths.
Then he looked at you and said there was nothing special about you and he turned and walked away tearing up grass and leaving you barren.
You ran to your mother and cried because your garden was dead and you felt you were too.
She whispered, "don't you cry, for as quickly as flowers die others will bloom and so will you."
